


A friend in need is a friend indeed

by ClaraCivry (Kat_Of_Dresden)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avenger looking after Loki, Fever, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Hurt Loki (Marvel), Infection, Loki Whump, Peter Parker is a cutie pie, TLC, The Avengers Are Good Bros, Whump, a tiny bit of nurse Steve because I can't help myself, also bridal carry, because I said so, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-28 00:50:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15037043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat_Of_Dresden/pseuds/ClaraCivry
Summary: Super late entry for the whump exchange, for allright-allmight.Prompt was a character being very sick and being taken care by friends.Loki is being consumed by infection, and he doesn't think anyone will come for him.Oh, how wrong he is.





	A friend in need is a friend indeed

When Loki woke up, he heard voices.

 

He was being carried around by somebody, out of his cell.

 

For more than three weeks he'd lain there, after being “interrogated”, hoping for someone, hoping for something. They had put some anti-magic shackles on him that were messing with his magic, and none of the wounds he'd received while being interrogated were healing. They were raw and red and swollen, and his head was swimming.

 

He had wounds in his neck, arms, stomach, chest, legs, everywhere, and an especially nasty gash that crossed his face diagonally. Lots of places for bacteria to live on, for the infection to thrive. It had already reached his bloodstream, he knew, and he spent many days half asleep, half awake in a limbo of delirium, confusion and pain, hoping for deliverance. Sometimes even his glamour failed and he was surprised by a blue hand or foot.

 

He'd thrown up in that little cell several times, despite hardly being fed. His head was pounding, he felt too cold, way too cold and even the smallest movements caused hell. And every day it was getting worse, every day his head hurt more, every day his fever climbed and he could do nothing but be thrown in that cell, his hands trapped in those cuffs, causing agony to course through him every time he tried to use even the tiniest amount of magic.

 

He was in hell, and he was too weak to do anything about it.

 

He was disgusted with himself and his weakness, and knew that none of the other Avengers would have been so easily defeated. He was a relatively new addition to the team – he'd been accepted in good part, much to his surprise, thanks to the testimony of the remaining Asgardians, the Valkyrie included- and he wasn't really sure if he had any place in that team. He certainly didn't think he had any friends, despite the shared love of irony and some nice experiences together. If it was up to him, he'd take Nebula and get the hell away of Midgard.

 

Still, the fact was that someone had come for him, someone had fought the guards and all of his captors and had gone through the trouble of opening his cell, taking him out.... Various someones, if his ears were to be believed. He seemed to being carried by Rogers, with Gamora, Lang and Miss Maximoff not too far. His fevered head could only make out bits of pieces of what they were saying. Something about “getting him back” and “first aid”, nothing too urgent.

 

Finally feeling hopeful after a captivity in which he'd resigned himself to his utter loneliness, Loki closed his eyes and slept.

 

-

 

Peter Parker was concerned.

 

Loki had been taken three weeks prior, abducted in mid-sentence while talking on the phone with Wanda, and it had been more difficult than expected, finding him again. Tony, Bruce and Scott Lang had been all over the web, while Natasha and Steve used their intelligence connections and resources and Nebula, Wanda and Mantis did some outer space magic. He'd wanted to help, too, because really, who could concentrate on Algebra when Loki could be being tortured?

 

And every day that passed and they didn't have him back Mr. Stark looked worse, drinking a million energy drinks and kicking himself for not being there already, for leaving him on enemy hand's.

 

“Who knows what they're doing to him... And he's not invulnerable, he can get hurt just as any of us can... And if we don't get him he's gonna think we left him, abandoned him... he's gonna think that we don't want him back.”

 

Peter was worried about that, too. Loki pretended to be this super-cool god but deep down he was very insecure, much like him. It can't have been easy trying to fit in the group you once fought, the idea that this people once defeated you might want to have you in their team. And Loki had been hurt before, often and deeply, and everyone's defenses had their limit.

So he and Ned investigated on their own, and found some leads that eventually led them to the place where Loki was being held. Peter saw him there, slumped against the wall of his cell, pale as death except for those horrible bright red wound that seemed to be all over him. He was going to need backup, so he called Captain Rogers and Wanda (he maybe or maybe not had promised Mr Stark that he was going to stay out of this one, so....)

 

And now Steve was carefully placing the unconscious Loki on a bed in the medbay and Peter was hovering, not knowing what to do, how to help. More people were coming (Pepper had a pained expression in her face, Nebula had her fists clenched and was probably already plotting revenge, and Bucky seemed... troubled).

 

“Can you get Doctor Banner?” Gamora was telling him and Peter was already there. Normally, Doctor Banner (you can call me Bruce, kid) scared him a bit, but Loki was hurting and nothing was more important than helping.

 

When they got back, Steve and Gamora had already set up some supplies and were cleaning some of the worst wounds. Bruce checked up his temperature and his vitals, and started drawing the best antibiotic course given the circumstances.

 

Peter just hovered.

 

Lay green opened after a while, and were met by smiles.

 

“Hey, soldier. How are you feeling?” Steve said, his voice soft.

 

Loki just frowned, not understanding. All these people were.... looking after him? After all he'd done? Steve just continued, while carefully and slowly bandaging one of his arms, after cleaning and disinfecting the wounds in it.

 

“Sorry it took us so long to find you. Those guys had hid you pretty good. But be assured that we were all worried sick about you.”

 

“Some of us still are! Worried, I mean!” Peter chimed in. Get well soon, Mr. Loki! Can you tell him that I helped finding him? We were all looking for you! Make sure that he knows, Captain, it's important.”

 

Loki didn't know how to feel. He honestly hadn't thought that he would get out unless it was because he managed to get himself out. Maybe Thor would come looking for him, but that was it. This... this level of care, this level of conern... It was... unprecendented. Loki hadn't had ever many friends. That was a luxury reserved for Thor, and more likable people like him.

 

And suddenly.

 

Stark had arrived, and was smiling at him (dude, finally!), Scott Lang was asking him what he wanted for dinner and Gamora was asking him if there was anything that hurt more than the others wounds.

 

Suddenly he too had friends.

 

And the world didn't hurt quite so much.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Placebo's song Pure morning.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Feedback always welcome!


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